


Ilvermorny and the Tales of Gormlaith

by MissThang17



Category: South Park
Genre: F/F, F/M, Ilvermorny, Love these dumb vulgar babies, M/M, Magic, She's back at it again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-05 00:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16799758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissThang17/pseuds/MissThang17
Summary: Stan Marsh is an unremarkable boy, until he finds out he's a wizard. As he navigates a new school in a new world, he meets a gallery of strange students, intimidating professors, and a green eyed Pureblood boy whose reputation is larger than his hair.





	1. Come On Down To South Park

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back back back again! This time I decided to go balls to the wall and write a fully fleshed out story for the Ilvermorny school mentioned in Fantastic Beasts. There's not much written on American wizards and magic, so I've taken it upon myself to build an immersive world for them, whilst simultaneously feeding into my love of South Park. Please like, comment, and enjoy!

The small town of South Park was, if anyone were to ask its inhabitants, perhaps the dullest place in America. Nestled in the high Colorado Mountains, little out of the ordinary happened here, and for eleven year old Stanley Marsh, a day spent inside was as dull as a day spent out. The television flashed cartoons as his mother cleaned and his sister sulked. His grandfather stared blankly out the window, as he was known to do, when he spoke.

"There's an owl on the driveway, Billy."

Stan frowned, owls weren't known to be seen flying about during the day. He turned to tell his grandfather so, when he noticed it as well. A large grey owl, strix nebulosa his science teacher would call it, had perched itself on the Marsh mailbox, a letter enclosed in its talons.

Whether it was the strangeness of the sight or the lack of anything better to do that urged him to his feet, Stan couldn't be sure. The boy made his way from the couch to his front door, watching in awe as the creature shot into the air, flapping its wings gracefully as it soared through the chilly morning haze, leaving the letter to drift lazily to the ground.

The paper was cool against Stan's fingers, the August sunshine yet to reach his lawn. As he opened the letter, reading its contents once, twice, then thrice, Stan was certain someone was playing a trick on him.

_Dear Stan Marsh,_

_We are delighted to inform you that you have been accepted to Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find the enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment._

_The term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than August 30th._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Victoria Mormont, Headmistress_

Such a thing was laughable; a school for magic! Stan despised the school he already attended, surely he couldn't be expected to go to this one as well! Stan marched into his home, thrusting the letter into his mother's unsuspecting hands.

"Some asshole's pranking me, mom," Stan commented as he entered the enclosed kitchen off of the dining room.

"Language, Stanley!" his mother admonished, before scanning the letter, her expression confused.

"Stanley, where did you get this?" She asked, watching as her son made himself a large bowl of cereal.

"An owl brought it," he replied, picking out the grain pieces and leaving only a bowl of marshmallows. "Grampa saw it too."

Sharon Marsh frowned at the letter. "Whoever sent it doesn't know how to pull a good prank. A school of magic isn't even believable."

Stan shrugged. "I'm sure Butters would've fell for it."

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Leopold 'Butters' Stotch barreled into the Marsh living room, his blonde hair bouncing atop his head.

"Stan! Stan! You'll never believe it, I'm a wizard!" he said, his smile as bright as his sky blue coat.

Stan rolled his eyes before glancing to his mother pointedly. "And what makes you say that, Butters?"

"I got a letter from a big ol' owl this morning! I get to go to a brand new school and everything!"

Sharon looked at the boy pityingly. "It's a joke, Butters, it's not real." She showed the boy Stan's letter, "See? Stan got one too, someone's teasing you, sweetie."

Butters' eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "Stan! You get to come too?!? Oh boy, wait till I tell mom and dad! They thought they were the only wizards in town!"

Stan's eyes darted to his friend, his expression bewildered. "What do you mean, Butters? Your parents are 'wizards?'" But the little blonde boy was already off, running down the street saying something about being grounded. Stan turned to his mother.

"I think I need new friends, mom."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The strange events that occurred a few days prior---that the Marsh family had dubbed the 'Owl Incident'--had been thoroughly discussed by the inhabitants of the small green house. Stan's father Randy, who had missed the entire ordeal whilst at work, marveled at the thought of a magic school and avian messengers.

"Think of the future he'd have if he could do magic, Sharon!"

Stan's mother and sister dismissed the notion completely, wanting nothing to do with such nonsense. Stan's grandfather had forgotten he'd even witnessed the owl and Stan, who at first was largely skeptical, was beginning to warm up to the idea of leaving his dull mountain town to pursue a life of adventure.

Whether or not Stan wished to go, however, was not left up to him, for that night, something incredibly unusual happened.

Stan had heard the doorbell ring that night, having only just gotten to bed, and was able to reach the top of the stairs just in time to see Linda and Stephen Stotch attack his parents with what looked like fireworks. Stan screamed as his parents fell to the floor, unable to escape once Mr. Stotch pointed his fireworks stick his direction.

The flash of blue was the last thing Stan saw before falling unconscious.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Stan awoke, he was in the backseat of the dark grey car the Stotch’s owned. Mr. and Mrs. Stotch argued in the front seats, while a cheerful Butter sat beside Stan in the back, munching happily on what looked like a toad.

“Oh, hey Stan! Wanna chocolate frog?”

“Do I- Butters! What the fuck is going on?!?!” Stan shrieked at the blonde.

“Now Stanley, I don’t think your mother would approve of such language,” Stephen admonished.

“YOU KILLED MY MOM YOU SICK FUCK!” Stan cried out miserably.

Linda tutted in the passenger seat. “We didn’t kill her, Stanley, we simply knocked her out, just like you.”

“Dad’s Stupefy packs a mean whollop, I’m surprised you’re even awake right now, lil’ buddy,” Butters remarked, stuffing more chocolate into his face.

“Where are you guys taking me?” Stan questioned, sinking as far into his seat as he could.

“To Ilvermorny, of course! After we pick up your supplies, that is.”

“You mean that fake school I got a letter about? It’s a scam dude.”

“Ilvermorny is real, Stan, and you’re a wizard.”

Stan shook his head. Such things were impossible! Magic couldn’t be real, it was far too unusual, especially for a place like South Park. “If I’m a wizard, how come my parents aren’t?”

“Your parents and your sister are No-Majs, Stanley, non-magic folk. American Wizarding laws prohibit No-Majs from knowing about the magic world, so they’ve been charmed to believe they sent you off to an elite boarding school in Canada.”

“I’m just going to tell them the truth when I see them next,” the boy replied petulantly.

“You can do that, Stanley, but we’ll just erase their memories. Again and again, till their brains are as mushy as mud. You don’t want that, now, do you?”

Stan folded him arms and sank lower in his seat, still firmly against the whole notion of wizards and magic schools. As if sensing his disbelief, Mr. Stotch pressed a small button on the radio of the car, and the vehicle took off from the road, soaring into the velvety blue night sky.

Stan was appropriately gob smacked. Never in his life had he seen such a thing, save for Saturday morning cartoons! The car drifted lazily through the twilight skies, cutting through clouds and gently rocking along to the rhythm of the winds.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When the car finally touched the earth once more, Stan looked around to see a small town, full of cobblestone roads and stone buildings, the streets full of people and the gas lamps glowing proudly despite the hour.

“Welcome to Salem Square, Stan! Here we will gather the things you’ll need for school before taking you and Butters to the station.”

“Station?” Stan questioned as the car doors swung open on their own and ejected the family.

“Dad means Samhain Station, where the cable cars will take us to Ilvermorny,” Butters informed him, stuffing the last of his sweets into his pockets for later enjoyment.

Salem Square was quite wondrous to Stan, who had never before left his hometown. The people wore long robes in every color, most wearing black with buckled hats and white collars like the Pilgrim costume Stan wore for his fourth grade Thanksgiving play.

“First, we’ll need to stop by the bank,” Stephen remarked, pulling his stick from his pocket. “Since you’re from a non-magic family, Stan, you’ll need to get some funds from the MACUSA Educational Trust.”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, “Should I even ask?”

“It’s an account our government set up to help pay for children from No-Maj families to go to school,” Linda explained, smiling kindly down at the boy.

The bank itself looked to be a dark, dingy shack from the outside, but was as large as a palace on the inside. The marble floors glimmered from the soft glow of the floating orbs of light. Each oak wood stall held a witch or wizard handling the finances, large golden scales making coins appear and disappear as transactions were made.

Stan stood in the center of the room, atop the pentagram etched into the floor, staring at anything and everything while the Stotch family made their withdrawals.

“Alright, Stan, these are for you: Ten Wampums, four Shinnies and two Crowleys. These should buy you all the supplies you need, plus a little extra for treats.”

“You should get some nice robes while we’re out,” Linda suggested as the group exited the bank. “The Howling Hem is just across the way.”

As Stan followed the Stotch family through the little witch town, his pockets full of strange coins, he made note of each interesting shop they passed. One had brooms whizzing about under the canopy, another with eerie glowing eyes hidden behind the window pane.

When they arrived at the shop, a kind elderly witch ushered Stan and Butters into a large fitting area with mirrors and stools placed around the spacious room. Stan was directed to one stool, tape measures flitting about him taking his measurements, Butters to another. The only other kid in the room being a boy who looked about their age with dirty blond hair and dark blue eyes.

The witch scurried between the three, flicking her hands and muttering to herself as cranberry and navy colored fabrics wrapped themselves around the boys. Stan had to duck to avoid a rather large needle impaling him, and the blonde across the room had become trapped completely, almost his entire face covered.

“Mmhhnnn hnn hmmm mph!”

“Oh dear, my apologies mister McCormick!”

The witch adjusted his robes, before attending to the other two. “Alright, these look to be in order. Come up to the front once you’ve finished and I’ll ring you up.”

Butters was the first to pull off his robes, hurrying to the front with his parents to pay. Stan had just begun fiddling with the gold pin of the cloak when he noticed the blond boy trying to sneak out the window.

“Dude, you have to pay for those,” Stan said, walking over to him.

The blond gave him a toothy smile, “Can’t afford ‘em, but the uniform is mandatory. ‘Sides, Goody Hargrave used to dress my parents, she knows what’s up.”

Stan shook his head. “I don’t know much about wizards, but people shouldn’t steal. I’ll buy them for you.”

The boy gave him a strange look. “You’re not a Pureblood, are you?”

It wasn’t a question, but Stan answered none the less. “I don’t think so? My parents are normal.”

The boy laughed. “Normal’s a funny word for No Majs. Alright, if you buy these for me, I won’t steal them, deal?”

“Deal.”

True to his word, Stan paid for his robes and the strange blonde’s, whom he learned was named Kenny.

“Thanks for the new threads, see ya at Ilvermorny Stan!”

The boy smiled and waved as he wandered down the street, Stan and Butters watching him go.

“Mom and Dad says he’s from the McCormick family; they were Purebloods of nobility who lost all their money and became disgraced. Poor little feller.”

The Stotchs took the boys to buy the rest of their supplies, before ushering them back to the car.

“We have to fly to the station, too far too Apparate with young kids.”

Stan wasn’t sure what that meant, but he was excited to be flying again.

After a quick sail through the skies, the car landed next to an enormous Art Deco railway station. Like the bank, Samhain Station was glossy and beautiful inside, marble floors and brass counters stretching as far as the eye could see. The Stotchs picked up the boys’ tickets, then lead them to the terminal, where a large cable car could be seen above the crowds of families.

“Alright boys, it’s time for you to start your new lives as wizards in training!”

“Oh Butters, mommy’ll miss you!”

Linda Stotch squeezed her child, sobbing onto his shoulder.

Stephen clapped Stan on the back. “I know this will be a rather big adjustment for you, but I’m sure you’ll do great, Stan.”

The boys said their goodbyes and made their way to the cable car. They inserted their tickets into a small panel etched into the door, and the compartment opened for them instantly. The two waved to the Stotch family as the cable car lifted off, floating out of the station and into the night sky, the station slipping further away from their view.

“Let’s go find a place to sit,” Butters suggested.

Each compartment was filled to capacity, save for one in the very back.

As the boys put their things away and got settled, Stan drifted off to sleep, thinking about wizards and magic and flying cars and all the other wondrous things he’d seen. He may have been kidnapped, and his parents may have been assaulted, but Stan Marsh was heading towards adventure, and that was most certainly not dull.


	2. Ilvermorny

It wasn’t until the sun peeked its head above the skyline that Stan awoke, the tendrils of morning light tickling his eyelids. It took a moment for Stan to come to terms with the realization that he had not dreamed his strange encounter with the Stotch family, and that he was indeed still on a flying cable car heading to the school for magic. Butters was still snoozing, and Stan was content to keep him that way, until the door to their compartment flew open, two kids rushing in and locking it.

“AAHH!” Butters let out a startled yelp, jumping as the commotion roused him.

“Do you think we lost them?” One of the boys spoke.

“Totally, there’s no way his fat ass is gonna make it down here.” The other replied, peering out of the small window facing the hallway.

“Uhhm, who the hell are you two?” Stan asked, eyeing the boys warily.

“Oh! Pardon the intrusion, we were just playing a little prank on someone,” One boy replied, his high pitched voice sporting an English accent.

“Hey, I know you; you bought me my robes,” the other boy spoke, his face breaking into a wide grin.

“Oh, hey Kenny,” Stan recalled meeting the blonde at the robe shop the night before. He was wearing his new robes already, the boy next to him dressed the same.

Kenny turned to Butters. “’Sup, the name’s Kenny. This here is my friend, Pip.”

“Pleasure to meet you, my good chap.”

Butters gave the two newcomers a bright smile. “Nice to meet ya!”

“Who were you running from?” Stan asked, making room for the boys to sit down, Butters doing the same.

“This asshole kid named Cartman,” Kenny replied, plopping down next to Butters. “He’s a Pureblood, and thinks the title gives him the right to shit on everyone else.”

“We put a few Booming Bon Bons in one of his pastries,” Pip explained. “When he bit into it, the pastry exploded! It was jolly good fun, though he seemed rather apoplectic afterwards.”

Kenny leaned in to whisper to Butters. “Pip always talks like he ate fucking dictionary for breakfast.”

Butters giggled, despite the coarse language. “Sounds like it served him right, I hate it when people use their blood status to bully people!”

“What is a Pureblood, anyway?” Stan asked.

“Oh dear, you must be No Maj born, then,” Pip responded. “Pureblood is the term used for families of complete magical ancestry, or so they’d have you believe. Some families are of an ancient bloodline, such as the Black family. Most live in parts of Europe, but others migrated here to start new lives, just like our ancestors! Our friend Token comes from the Black line, and I’m rather proud to claim relation to the Longbottoms, myself.”

“Generally speaking, it’s the Purebloods from these families that think they’re superior,” Kenny added. “They usually hold wealth, status and power in our community.”

Before anything else could be shared, the train car opened again as a boy with curly blonde hair and a rather snooty expression appeared.

“Pip, there you are, I’ve been checking all of the compartments since you ran off with McCormick,” he spoke in a drawled English accent.

He cast bored eyes over the group. “Ah, I see you’ve made new friends. Gregory Yardale, at your service.”

“Gregory is my cousin,” Pip explained to his new companions, before turning to his cousin. “We’ve just been discussing bloodlines.”

“Ah, my favorite subject! Have you gotten to the Cartman family yet? Quite the scandal, believe you me.”

Gregory inserted himself next to his cousin, not bothering to ask if he could stay. “Leanne Cartman comes from a good, Pureblooded family, but her husband is a bit of a mystery, he disappeared just before their son Eric was born. No one knows if he’s even a wizard or not. I’ve also heard rumor that Craig’s friend Clyde is a mudblood.”

Pip slapped him on the arm. “Don’t say that word! You know its offensive to the No Maj born!”

Gregory shrugged. “I mean no harm, of course. Just making an observation. I hope you haven’t left out the Broflovskis in your retelling.”

“What are you talking about?” Stan inquired, not entirely sure if he liked the haughty boy.

“The Broflovskis are practically royalty,” Gregory gushed. “They’re the most influential wizarding family in America. Sheila is the president of MACUSA, with direct relation to the Lestrange family. Gerald is Head Auror, naturally, and there are whispers of an ancient bloodline in his family that dates back to the time of Merlin. Their son Kyle is quite charming himself, very intelligent. Pip, McCormick and I had been sitting in his compartment before these two took off.”

“Yeah, Kyle’s pretty cool,” Kenny shrugged. “Though a bit uptight, if you ask me.”

Gregory shot him a pointed look, “I’m surprised you were even allowed in our compartment, McCormick. I thought only Pureblood families of _high_ status were allowed.”

Kenny shrugged again. “Kyle’s my bro. We used to hang before my folks bankrupted us. ‘Sides, the only reason you and Crapman were allowed to sit with us is because Pip was nice enough to invite you. You’re not exactly Miss Popular, Yardale.”

Gregory puffed up in annoyance, but kept quiet.

“We should be arriving soon,” Pip commented, eager to change topics. “You two should change into your robes. We’ll leave you to it.”

Pip ushered Kenny and Gregory out of the compartment, leaving Stan and Butters alone once more.

Stan looked over to his friend. “Butters, am I a mudblood?”

Butters shook his head. “Only mean and nasty wizards use that word. No Majs are not beneath wizards, and their magical children are just as powerful as half-bloods and purebloods. You’re great Stan Marsh, don’t listen to old nasty Gregory.”

The boys changed in silence and watched as the cable car lowered itself through a wooded thicket and out onto the massive lawn of an enormous castle. Stan’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head as the swirling mists parted to reveal more of the school. The cable car floated lazily to the ground, letting the students out. Stan looked around to see other cable cars landing as well, which he would later learn were housing the older students.

A large wizard stomped over to the new students, a wide grin on his face.

“Welcome, children, to Ilvermorny! My name is Chef, and I’m going to be showing you through your first day here. Make sure to keep up, now, or the Pukwudgies’ll eat ya!”

“Puck-whatses?” Stan whispered bemusedly.

“They’re the groundskeepers here.” A boy with dark hair and a flat voice commented from beside him. He wore a blue chullo hat and a blank expression.

The group of First Years made their way across the yard, entering through the large oak doors into a spacious foyer with four massive golden statues: a snake, bird, cat, and what looked to be some sort of goblin.

“These statues represent the four houses you will be sorted into, children. Each one means something special, and is made for specific students:

Horned Serpent, for scholars,

Thunderbird, for adventurers,

Wampus, for warriors,

And Puckwudgie, for healers.

Step on the Gordian Knot on the floor, and one of the statues will choose you for their house. Remember, if more than one statue chooses you, you pick where you wanna go, so choose wisely.”

Chef pulled a scroll from his pocket, opening it to read the names aloud.

“First up, Bill Allen!”

A boy with rather thick eyebrows and a slight mullet stepped onto the Gordian Knot tile. Within a few moments, the Wampus statue came to life, swiping its paw and letting out a roar. Bill smirked before moving off to the side.

It continued in this fashion with little commotion, most students too stunned to say anything.

“Token Black!”

A boy with dark skin stepped forward from a small cluster of kids, one being Pip. When he reached the tile, the Horned Serpent statue lowered its head, its crystal horn lighting up the hall.

“Kyle Broflovski!”

Stan’s ears perked at the name, recognizing it from Gregory’s swooning.

The boy in question had fluffy red hair, his rosy curls bouncing with each step. His skin was rather pale, and his eyes were very green. Apart from his hair, Stan didn’t detect anything unusual about him, until he reached the tile.

One by one each statue reacted to him, and the hall exploded with fervent whispers.

“Dad told me it’s really rare for all four houses to choose you,” Butters spoke quietly to Stan. “It’s a one in a thousand shot.”

The boy surveyed each statue critically, not saying a word, before walking up to the Thunderbird statue. The bird flapped its wings in approval, and Kyle moved to the side.

Things calmed a bit after that: Pip was sorted into Pukwudgie, his cousin into Horned Serpent, Kenny into Thunderbird, and Butters into Pukwudgie.

“Stan Marsh!”

Stan gulped, before taking a deep breath and moving forward. He felt the eyes of the other students on him, waiting to see his placement.

Stan was always first pick in P.E., last pick in group projects. He wasn’t expecting much to happen as his feet hit the tile. The Wampus roared as the Thunderbird flapped its wings, and the whispers began once more.

“The No Maj born got two houses!”

“He doesn’t even know what they are, how’d he get a double sorting?”

Stan’s eyes flitted between the groups of students standing beside their statues. His eyes hit Kenny and the fluffy haired Kyle, before his decision was made.

He walked over to the Thunderbird, which flapped its wings once more, signaling his placement.

Stan Marsh, House Thunderbird.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Once the sorting was finished, the students filed into the Great Hall, where four large tables lied in wait, covered in sticks.

“Now, children, you’ll each be getting your very own wand! Remember, you don’t choose it, it chooses you.”

Stan was directed to his house’s table, standing next to Kenny. The students moved down the line, picking up different wands and testing them. A shot of sparks from across the room signified a successful wand pairing. More of these began happening, Stan’s wand glowing blue when it picked him, Kenny’s levitating a nearby candle.

Kyle’s wand caused the air to spin around him in a small vortex, causing even more whispers. Butters’ wand chirped like a canary.

After the wand choosing, the students broke off to go to their respective dormitories.

Each house had its own large tower in the castle: Horned Serpent facing south, Wampus facing east, Pukwudgie facing north and Thunderbird facing west.

Stan’s room contained fours beds, one already marked with his luggage. At one bed was a gruff, dirty looking boy who called himself “The Mole.” At another bed was a fidgety blonde named Tweek, and the last bed belonged to a boy with shaggy hair named Thad.

“Jesus, man, all these -ngh- people in one room! It’s too cramped in here, man!” The little blonde yelped.

“I could ‘ave gone to Beauxbatons like my fazzer and grandfazzer before me if my bitch muzzer hadn’t brought me to America,” The Mole grumbled under his breath.

Stan finished unpacking before heading down to the Common Room. He could see several of his new housemates milling about, conversing with the older students and one another.

Through the cluster of children, Kenny found his way to him, a grin on his face. “This place is pretty sweet, huh?”

Stan nodded, casting his eyes over the lavishly decorated navy and cranberry room.

“Some of the guys are going down to the courtyard,” Kenny informed him. “You and your friend Butters are totally welcome to join us.”

Stan smiled over at his new friend. “Yeah sure, we’ll be there.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The courtyard of Ilvermorny was a lush paradise, with large open spaces and clusters of vibrant foliage decorating the landscape. Kenny and his Pureblood companions were situated under a large oak tree, its massive roots dividing the spaces the boys were sat. Stan and Butters sat nearest Kenny and Pip, who were lounging on one of the roots of the tree. Token and Craig had taken residence on a low hanging branch and, huddled up against the trunk of the tree, was Kyle.

“Guys, this is Stan and Butters, I met them at the robe shop in Salem Square,” Kenny introduced the new boys.

“Nice to meet you,” Token greeted. Craig shrugged nonchalantly, and Kyle eyed them warily before offering a small wave.

“We’ve just been discussing our plans for the rest of the day,” Pip informed the newcomers, swinging his feet. “Our classes won’t begin until tomorrow.”

“I say we play a game of Quidditch,” Kenny commented, stretching out onto the warm summer grass. “We won’t get to try out for the teams until next year, so we won’t get many shots at it.”

“What’s Quidditch?” Stan asked.

Instantly Stan wished he’d kept his mouth shut, for now all eyes had found their way to him, most looking incredulous.

“You don’t know what Quidditch is,” Craig drawled, the comment very clearly not a question.

“Stan is a No-Maj Born,” Butters said, before turning to the raven haired boy. “Quidditch a wizarding sport, we play it on flying broomsticks.”

“You’re from a No Maj family?” Kyle questioned, his curiosity piqued.

“Uhm, yeah…” Stan replied, nervously scratching at the back of his neck.

Kyle beamed brightly before moving over to sit closer to him. “Dude, that’s so cool! I’ve never gotten to hang out with No Majs before, or their kids! What’s it like? Do you guys watch television?”

“Yeah dude,” Stan was rather taken aback by the interest the redhead was showing him.

Kenny chuckled. “Kyle’s into No Maj studies, he’s read all the fairy tales, knows the names of some celebrities, he even bought a No Maj gaming system that he has no idea how to use.”

Kyle blushed at the accusation, snapping at his friend. “I’ll figure it out! One day….” He turned back to Stan. “Sorry, I don’t get to socialize outside the Pureblood families much, none of us do. We practically live in a bubble.”

“Kyle more than the rest of us,” Craig drawled, lazily twirling his new wand in his hand.

The redhead nodded. “If my parents had their way, I’d only ever talk to Token, Pip and-“

“’Sup, assholes,” a whiny voice interjected.

The Purebloods rolled their eyes and groaned as a fat boy waddled over to them, Gregory not far behind.

“Get out of here Fatass,” Kyle sneered. “We didn’t want you with us on the train and we don’t want you with us now.”

“Don’t be such a Jew, Kahl, we Purebloods have to stay together! Even if some of us are no good, dirty gingers.”

Kyle’s eyes hardened but a hand placed on his shoulder by Kenny kept him from fighting back. “Fine, sit wherever you want, just don’t crush the new kids.”

Cartman glared as the other boys began to snicker, and even Gregory had to stifle a smirk. The two sat down, Cartman nearest Stan and Butters, Gregory sidling up to Kyle.

The group managed to keep conversation light and mostly free of antagonizing comments.

“Thank god the girls didn’t join us,” Cartman said, shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming rate. “Those bitches always ruin a good time.”

Kyle rolled his eyes, “Just because they won’t talk to _you_ doesn’t make them bitches.”

“You should probably stop shit talking Wendy before she kicks your ass,” Craig added flatly.

“Pff! As if! I’d school that dumb bitch!”

“Sure you would.”

“Shut up, Crag!”

At that moment an ominous bell tone rang out from one of the castle’s many towers. It was with a slight start that noticed the sun, which had been gleaming overhead all day, had begun to retreat into the mountains.

Cartman groaned. “Finally! Time for dinner.”

The boys got up and made their way to the Great Hall, where just hours before they’d been selected by their wands, to find a lavish feast spread out for them. Other students had already found spots at their house’s tables, and the group split up accordingly. Butters and Pip joined the Pukwudgies, Token and Gregory the Horned Serpents, Cartman and Craig the Wampus’, and Stan, Kyle and Kenny the Thunderbirds. During their meal, which had a vibrant assortment of all foods, both magical and non-magical, Kyle grilled Stan on life in the No Maj world, the redhead hanging off of every word.

Stan was pleasantly surprised at the attention. At his other school, he hadn’t a great many friends, most being sports companions, the children of friends of his parents, and Butters. He was boring and nondescript, and here he was completely out of his element; yet Kyle, the boy who had every house pick him, whose name was on the lips of every Pureblood student, who had fluffy hair and lots of friends, found him fascinating.


End file.
